Lauren was on day five of her ritual. It was October and unseasonably cool as she walked back to her dorm from the library. She could feel the pressure inside her, a gentle push, a gentle reminder. This would be her first time doing the ritual since starting college that August. She was 19, slim, somewhat plain of features with the exception of incredibly beautiful white skin, the color of milk. She had kept her blond hair shoulder length and straight since high school and tended to dress rather conservatively for her generation, preferring skirts and tops that her peers may have considered a bit librarian-ish. She always wore bulky clothes during the ritual, favoring a dark sweater and sweat pants.

There were a few students sitting outside the dorm building as she approached, smoking cigarettes and talking. She avoiding making eye contact and quickly maneuvered past sitting and standing students, showed her ID to the desk as she entered, and headed toward her room.

Lauren was somewhat fortunate in that her roommate had already dropped out and moved on. Her previous roommate, Amanda, had gone a little crazy during the beginning of the semester. Amanda had thrown herself full force into partying, started missing classes, and by the end of September found herself hospitalized for alcohol poisoning after a frat party. Amanda’s parents came that weekend and took her home. So Lauren had her room to herself.

She entered the hall and moved toward the end where her room was. A few girls were bullshitting in the hallway and some looked over to acknowledge Lauren as she passed. She hadn’t made many friends yet. Lauren never really partied in high school, though not because of lack of desire. Her parents were fairly strict and Lauren never really knew anyone in the “party crowd” to get involved with. Everyone seemed to party at college. She’d been to a few parties with Amanda before she left school, had a few drinks, smoked a few cigarettes, but she really didn’t understand the appeal of the whole thing. There was a buzz on campus that started on Thursday and culminated in Friday night take-it-to-the-next-level boozing and drugging that left the campus completely dead on Saturday mornings and early afternoons. Lauren felt apart from it all somehow. All the girls on her hall seemed to go out every night and she hadn’t really had a chance to get close to anyone.

She entered her room, turned on the lights, got her iPod stereo going (a random playlist of pop stars of the last few years) and laid down. She could feel the pressure in her bowels. Sometimes she could even convince herself that she felt it getting bigger moment by moment. She gently rubbed her belly through her shirt. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. She squeezed her anus tightly.

The ritual started in high school. Lauren wouldn’t shit for six days. At first, Lauren would almost be staggering in pain by the sixth day. She would be incredibly uncomfortable, dressing in bulky sweaters for those last few days, and think constantly of what was inside her. It was incredibly difficult to resist the urge to evacuate her bowels by day four. She’d feel the urge to go come on suddenly and powerfully and would have to strain with all her might to hold it in. She’d had a few accidents but had gotten much better over the years. The ritual had been modified over time as well. She now managed her diet during the six days consuming massive amounts of fiber and little to no water. On day six she would drink a bottle of Milk of Magnesia and that night would erupt.

Lauren dazed up at the ceiling while absentmindedly stroking her stomach. She could feel the shit inside her, she could feel the urge to make shit, she could feel the weight of it pushing on her colon. She could resist it. She had been worried about what might come of the ritual when she left for college but Amanda unexpected departure allowed Lauren the kind of privacy she needed.

The other problem that prevented her from performing the ritual was the set-up of the dorm – this particular building had group bathrooms for every hall. Lauren had considered either waiting until late at night or doing it in her room. She settled for doing it in her room as she was absolutely terrified of the possibility of being found out if she did it in the bathroom. She would have to push the waste down the sink afterward and make sure the odor was taken care of, but she felt pretty confident that if she waited until the early morning all the other girls would be asleep.

Lauren got up, undressed, checked her email, and went to bed.

Today was the day. She felt very uncomfortable and decided to skip her morning classes. When she showered that morning she gently and lovingly stroked her stomach, amazed as she always was with the pot belly that she had developed in six short days. She had a little difficulty walking and hoped no one would notice – the sense of discomfort was quickly escalating to pain. She sat, naked, freshly showered on her bed in her room considering whether or not she should go to her afternoon class, distractedly and gently rubbing her thighs and pussy.

She eventually decided she wouldn’t go, composed an email to her professors telling them she was sick, put on her sweats, and laid down to watch TV. Despite the pain in her bowels she drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later she woke up when someone knocked on her door. There was a moment of horror and surprise, quickly followed by composure.

Lauren sighed softly. Jake had been trying hard since the semester had started. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, but that was also just it, she didn’t really find anything particularly attractive about him. She got up slowly from the bed, feeling the flares of pressure and pain deep her bowels. For a split second there was a moment of absolute terror as Lauren felt a sudden and powerful push from her insides. She could feel the shit on the other side of her anus, pushing, demanding to be let out. Normally she’d totally focus on the sensation (as it was best on day six, reaching an almost unbearable intensity) of pain and discomfort and think about the waste struggling to get out, that which was part of her but not her, and would feel pleasure on the edge of the constipation induced pain. Her eyes widened, she steadied herself, and the sensation passed.

She opened the door. Jake stood smiling and handed her a few notebook pages.

“Are you ok?” Jake asked. “Heard there’s a stomach flu or something running through the dorms.”

Jake kinda forced himself in her room and she shut the door after him. He sat down on the mattress that used to be Amanda’s and tossed his book bag in the corner.

“Dude, Patterson’s class this morning was bullshit anyway, he just gets up there and babbles on and on about his stupid stories, you didn’t miss anything. Are you going out tonight?” Jake asked.

At Lauren’s school people were very likely to go out drinking even if they had been sick all day. Everyone else seemed to experience this excitement that pushed them, body and mind, to throw themselves in to the college experience. Lauren was somewhat mystified by it.

“No, probably not,” she responded, slowly sitting down on her bed opposite Jake. “I’m trying to not spend too much money this month.” That was one of the only excuses that the partiers would accept for staying in on a Thursday night.

“Yeah, heard that,” Jake said. “Did you hear about what happened to Preston and Frank last night?” Without waiting for Lauren to respond he started telling her.

Lauren zoned out a bit. He did this often, telling her stories about other people she didn’t know and didn’t care to. She wasn’t sure what she could do without being rude or mean to get Jake to leave her be. Suddenly and without any warning she felt it come on. The pressure rose from the background with a fury and Lauren suddenly felt her anus struggling to stay closed. She gasped despite herself and groaned softly.

Jake stopped and looked over at her.

“What’s up? Are you OK?” He looked over nervously. She felt her eyes tearing up against the monumental effort required to hold her anus closed. She groaned softly, again despite herself, and looked up.

“Please, you need to leave, please..” she started.

“Are you ok?” Jake said, his eyes becoming more and more concerned.

It was becoming unbearable. She couldn’t hold it, she strained against it, it was so painful. The effort required to keep her ass closed was incredible.

“Please…” she gasped. “Jake get the fuck out.”

Jake stood and moved to her bed.

“What’s up? Do I need to call a doctor?”

“Jake, get the fuck away!” she shrieked as he sat on her bed.

She felt it. It was like her anus just caved in. She felt it open, and all the while straining with all her might to stop it, she felt it, warm, slide out into her sweat pants. She groaned, closed her eyes, in rapture, and let go. The shit came in waves and didn’t seem to stop, like a single unbroken log being pushed into her underwear. She convulsed and inadvertently pushed harder, moaning, feeling the wet warmth against her thighs, her pussy, the sensation of her anus obliterated as she only felt the shit. She couldn’t stop now that she had started.

Jake stared at her.

“What the fuck?”

“Please,” she gasped. “Please leave, now, please leave now.” She heard herself and she sounded hysterical. She couldn’t stop. The smell started. She closed her eyes and pushed.

Jake jumped off her bed. She could hear him, but it was on the periphery, she relaxed her anus entirely and gave herself over to the sensation, feeling the shit thundering past her anus, moaning now turning to screaming. She tried to pull her sweats and underwear down but couldn’t fuly concentrate with the pleasure. It kept coming and coming, six days worth, filling her pants.

There was a break and suddenly she was aware of Jake again. She slowly opened her eyes, panting now, covered in sweat, the smell unavoidable. Jake stood by her computer, eyes wide, staring.

“What happened? What is that smell?”

“Jake, please leave,” she started to cry. The shit started seeping through her sweats, the smell was becoming unbearable and incredibly obvious.

He stared at her. She was sitting on her bed, drenched in sweat, her legs somewhat spread, a stain on her pants. The smell was horrible. He couldn’t believe this was happening. She sat crying.

She was crying in shame and humiliation but even now she couldn’t stop herself. She reached down and started pulling off her pants and underwear. There was shit everywhere, getting on her comforter, dripping on the floor. She stood with her underwear and pants around her ankles, shit smeared on the inside of her thighs, against her pussy, she could feel it clinging to her ass, dripping from her ass crack. Her anus closed slowly and painfully, pushing the last of it, a fully formed lump, out and onto the floor of her dorm room. She took off her sweater and kicked off her underwear, standing naked and clad in shit next to her bed. She couldn’t make eye contact with Jake and turned around, crying.

He stared at her naked from behind. Her ass was covered with shit and the smell was horrible. The whole room suddenly felt very warm, like a jungle. There was a mound of waste coming out of the small pile of clothes on the floor, shit piled in a short stack on the bed. She was crying. As he stood silent and amazed, Lauren reached around and put her hands on her ass cheeks, gently smearing the shit. The touch, the smell, the feeling of dirty shit clinging to her ass, her thighs, filthy shit on her pussy, the wrenched stink – all of it, together, she couldn’t help herself, and felt her pussy warming. She moaned, softly, and still standing with her back to Jake, pulled her ass cheeks apart, slowly bent slightly forward and pushed. Liquid shit rushed out in a spurt, spraying on the floor, down her thighs, covering the thicker shit already there. She groaned.

There was silence. Jake stood staring, unbelieving, his mouth open with disbelief. Lauren stood up straight but did not turn around. She could hear him breathing. She inhaled, deeply, slowly, and gently started to rub her breasts, smearing her beautiful white skin with shit. She ran her hands down her stomach, feeling the tightness there that replaced the pot belly she had only ten minutes ago. Her anus felt on fire, she could feel it quivering slightly, a bit of diarrhea slowly dripping out and her pussy felt wet from the inside. She concentrated on the sensation of the warm shit on her pussy lips and smeared some into her neatly trimmed pubic hairs. The smell was overwhelming, disgusting, and in a sudden moment of clarity she wondered if the smell was obvious from the hallway. She gasped, held her arms at her sides. Oh, god, no, no, no, what have I done! She heard Jake clear his throat behind her.

Jake moved slowly to pick up his book bag. He looked at Lauren, naked, dripping with sweat and shit, her back to him, grabbed his bag and moved to the door. Lauren, still facing away, said nothing. He quickly opened the door and left.

**** ***** ****

The cleanup was horrendous. She hadn’t had time to properly gather her cleaning supplies and set up beforehand. Her bedspread, sheets, and comforter were all ruined. As were her sweats and underwear. The shear volume of shit was also a problem – how could she transport it out of her room without anyone seeing or smell it? Then there was Jake.

She waited until midnight. At midnight all the girls that were going out were out and all the girls that were staying in were in. There was a window from midnight until about 2 AM during which time few if any students would be in the hallways of the dorms. She would of course have to be careful about girls headed to the bathroom.

It took almost two hours of carefully carrying trash bags downstairs and out to the dumpsters while avoiding other students, security guards, and randoms. She spent the next two hours carefully cleaning and sanitizing her room. Luckily the shit hadn’t penetrated through to the mattress, which was a good thing as she knew she’d have to explain if she tried to get a new one. At about 4 AM she deposited the last trash bag, got a shower, remade her bed, and fell asleep.

She laid in bed until noon. She stared at the ceiling and listened to her music. She was both angry at herself for ruining the ritual and humiliated that Jake was witness to her filth. She wasn’t so much worried about Jake telling other people – she suspected he wouldn’t and felt pretty confident that few if any people would believe him if he did – she was upset and somewhat mystified at her behavior. The ritual was personal, it was private, it was for her and no one else. And now it was ruined. What really bothered her, though, was that she performed for him after it all started, performed for him despite herself.

At noon she heard a knock followed by Maureen’s voice inviting her to eat lunch. Maureen lived on the hall, was nice enough, though a bit obsessed with joining a sorority for Lauren’s taste, and always wanted to get a group together for lunch. Lauren accepted.

She ate with Maureen and her friend Alison. Lauren found Alison, who lived on the hall as well, incredibly irritating but generally good natured. She lived for boys and was rumored to have already fucked a bakers dozen since August. The fraternity boys all seemed to know her on a first name basis. Lauren had never really talked to Alison on a meaningful level and didn’t care to. However, she and Maureen were decent company for lunch as they were up on the dorm gossip and felt it was their duty to make sure everyone else was too.

After about an hour of discussing the week’s hook-ups, both actual and rumored, Alison met Lauren’s gaze and out of nowhere asked:

“So, what’s up with Jake Henderson? I saw him leave your room yesterday with the weirdest look on his face. Are you guys dating? Are you guys fucking?” asked Alison. The way she said it suggested she had been waiting to ask since she first saw Lauren.

“There’s nothing going on, Alison, he was dropping off notes. I don’t like him like that.”

**** ***** ****

Back in her room Lauren wondered about Jake. What did he think about what happened? Would he bring it up when they saw each other again? What should she say?

Maureen had convinced her to go out that night. Normally she probably would have stayed in on Friday night but she was feeling oddly trapped in her dorm room and didn’t want to spend the whole night there. She was also feeling pretty good from eating a lunch that wasn’t selected for its incredible fiber content. Her body felt relieved after the purging of shit. She loved that part of the ritual, that sense of being new somehow afterward, transformed by pushing out every gram of feces in her body, purified. She felt good.

She stared at her body naked in her mirror as she got ready. Turning to her side she observed her slimness restored, the pot belly completely gone, only a smooth stomach now. She turned again until her ass was facing the mirror before grabbing a smaller hand mirror and moving to the bed. Laying down she positioned the mirror so she could see her anus and vaginal lips. She stared for several minutes, gently flexing and unflexing her anus, softly rubbing her pussy, watching the juices slowly gather on the lips. With one hand she continued rubbing her pussy while with the other she started stroking her anus, slowly, in small circles, before wetting a finger in her mouth and slowly sliding it in her ass. With one finger in she flexed and unflexed her anus, watching it in the mirror. She pulled her finger out and examined it for any particles or colors and smiled when she judged it to be clean. She smelled her finger, smelled the gentle stink of her ass on her finger, that particular and peculiar smell that she loved over all others. She wondered if her ass smelled better than other people’s asses. It wasn’t that her ass smelled like roses – it smelled like ass and sweat and pussy – but it was like a pheromone or something designed specifically to arouse Lauren. It didn’t quite smell like shit but had its own unique stink. She would often penetrate her anus with her right middle finger (to the second joint, always) in the morning, carefully avoid washing it the rest of the day, and smell it inconspicuously throughout her day. The ritual was born out of the impossible fantasy of saturating herself completely with that smell.

Laying in bed, she put down the mirror and tried to stop thinking about Jake witnessing her the previous day. She found it to be difficult. She gave up and focused on continuing to get ready for that evening.

She was supposed to meet Maureen downstairs at 10 and had about fifteen minutes left by the time she had finished putting on her makeup. She was wearing a pink skirt an inch longer than any other skirt she knew she’d see at the party and a simple white blouse. She decided on her designer flips flips and her favorite purse. Checking herself out in the mirror she knew she was ready. She looked cute but conservative and secretly hoped she was boring enough to be able to blend in at the party.

The party sucked. It was at some frat guys house a few miles from campus. When they arrived it was already packed, the music was terribly loud, and they only served cheap beer. Lauren had trouble hearing Maureen over the music, refused to drink the beer, avoided talking to boys, and decided at midnight to walk back to campus alone. She spotted Maureen on the back deck making out with some random and decided that Maureen probably didn’t care if she left without telling her. She maneuvered through the crowd, pushed out the door, and started off down the street toward campus.